


The Adventures of Dean and Cas: Going Home

by elliex



Series: The Adventures of Dean and Cas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:39:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliex/pseuds/elliex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean, and Cas make their way back to the bunker. Heaven's still watching, though the folks upstairs don't get to see as much as some would like.</p><p>This is a continuation of Part 1, so reading that first may be helpful :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Dean and Cas: Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Prompt "Colors"
> 
> To make posting easier, I've made "The Adventures of Dean and Cas" a series instead of a typical multi-chapter work. This "chapter" is here as the second work in the series, and it is also cross-posted as Chapter 2 in the original work. To all of the lovely subscribers, I hope that you'll get the updated section this time; next time, I'll update the series with a third work, instead of adding a third chapter.
> 
> Also, I'm still learning Ao3, so just let me know if there are any problems. Sorry for any confusion!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Supernatural belongs to the CW, Kripke, Carver, et. al.

\+ + + + + 

Cas leaned his head against the window and watched the rippling reflection of I-84 East in the Impala’s sleek black curves. 

“Cas, you okay?,” Dean asked, watching Cas in the rearview. He nodded. 

“Get some sleep if you can,” Dean said. “I know this driving straight through sucks, but you’ll be safer at the bunker.” 

“I know,” Cas said quietly. He looked back out the window, noting the yellow-tinged grey of the dawn-lit landscape. 

He knew that Dean was still watching him. Cas shut his eyes and willed himself to sleep. 

When he woke, Sam was driving, and Dean was passed out in the passenger seat. 

“Hey, Cas,” Sam said. “You’ve been asleep for hours. Do you need me to stop?”

Cas had to pause a moment to consider the human urges that now dictated his state of being. “Yes,” he finally said. “I think that I do.”

“Sure thing,” Sam said, a small smile playing on his lips. Cas briefly wondered what Sam found amusing before finding his attention consumed by the realization that his bladder was most definitely full. 

The five minutes it took Sam to pull off at the rest stop were agony for the former angel. 

+

Sam’s chuckling woke Dean up. “What’s going on?,” he asked. 

“You missed Cas’s pee-pee dance,” Sam said. 

“Huh?”

“He woke up a few minutes ago and immediately had to pee. I thought the guy was going to fall he was running to the restroom so fast – hence, you missed his pee-pee dance.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. “Not funny,” he said evenly. 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, it kind of is,” he retorted. 

“No, it’s not,” Dean snapped. “You’re talking about Cas, former angel of the lord, dude who could knit our broken bones back together with a flick of his finger, overwhelmed with the base human urge to pee – think about what that’s like for him, Sam. As much as he might love humanity, I seriously doubt he expected this would be the result of helping us.” 

“C’mon Dean, I didn’t mean anything,” Sam protested. 

“I know you didn’t. But that still doesn’t excuse being an empathy-lacking jackass.” And with that, Dean got out of the car and slammed the door, heading towards the restroom. 

+

Cas was washing his hands and looking at his reflection when Dean walked in. Their eyes met briefly in the mirror. Dean looked away shyly and went into a stall. He chose not to think about why he wasn’t using a urinal or why he’d broken eye contact first. 

When he came out, Cas was gently touching the blackish blue bruise spreading along his jawline. Dean saw it and winced. 

“I’m sorry for that,” he said. He washed his hands and face in the sink beside of Cas. 

“Yeah?,” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I shouldn’t have hit you; I just –”

Cas ended Dean’s ability to speak by reaching for his right hand and holding it between his own. He ran his fingers over Dean’s tanned skin, the wrinkles at his knuckles, the heavy sprinkling of freckles, and the abrasion where his fist had made contact with Cas’s jaw. 

Dean stared as Cas looked up at him with those cosmically blue eyes and brought Dean’s hand up to his mouth, placing a light kiss on the red and broken skin. The touch pinged every nerve ending Dean possessed, and based on the flush rising in Cas’s cheeks, Dean figured he was similarly affected. 

He slipped his arms around Cas and pulled him close, chest to chest, hip to hip. Dean couldn’t help groaning softly. Cas couldn’t help the noticeable hitch in his breathing. 

Yep, Dean determined. Similarly affected indeed. 

Dean softly kissed the bruise. “I am sorry, Cas,” he said, leaning his forehead against his friend’s. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms, feeling Cas lean into him. The sensation of Cas’s arms wrapping around him generated a warmth and sense of safety that Dean had rarely felt in his life.

When Dean finally opened his eyes, he half expected to see the world dancing in a kaleidoscope of sparkling lights and warm hues, but they were in a standard, boring public restroom with gray tiled floor and stalls and uniform white sinks. 

“We probably need to get back to the car,” he said, rubbing his hand along Cas’s lower back. Cas winced. 

Dean frowned. “What’s wrong?,” he asked. 

“I hurt my back the other day,” Cas said, shrugging. “It’s a little sore, but it’s fine.” 

“You sure?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he said shortly. Dean opened his mouth to demand that Cas show him the injury but stopped himself, remembering what he’d told Sam. 

“Okay then,” he said instead. They were walking out of the restroom hand-in-hand when Cas suddenly stopped.

“What?,” Dean asked. 

“You apologized for hitting me,” Cas said.

“Uh – yeah?”

“So do I need to apologize for hitting you?,” Cas asked quite seriously. “Does your bruise hurt?” He reached over and ran his finger along Dean’s cheekbone, which was still red from Cas’s well-placed swing. 

Dean winced slightly at the touch but laughed. “Nah, Cas, I’d forgotten about it. Besides, if you’re not sorry, you shouldn’t apologize – and are you sorry?”

“Not exactly,” Cas said, a smile lurking at the edge of his lips. 

Dean laughed loudly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Let’s get back on the road, you cheeky bastard.” 

+

Sam paced the picnic area, a restful spot with real grass and bordered by crepe myrtles. He debated whether or not he should go after his brother and Cas when he saw them coming out of the building. He squinted – were they holding hands? 

_They were._

Huh.

Okay, that’s a good sign, he thought. But he forcibly pushed his mind away from the tempting question of what had been taking so long in that _very_ public restroom. 

He did not need to know. _Ever._

After Cas got into the backseat, Sam tossed the keys to Dean. He told himself not to say anything, but he couldn’t help baiting Dean: “You sure took long enough,” Sam said. 

Dean gave him _that_ look. The one that usually preceded stories that had scarred Sam’s psyche in some form or fashion. 

But instead of a lewd comment, Dean simply said, grinning, “You can’t hurry love, Sammy.”

Dean slipped in behind the wheel and shut the door, leaving Sam standing there dumbfounded. As Sam claimed his usual passenger seat, he wondered if his brother had any idea just how different this thing with Cas _was._

+

Three beer bottles clinked together as Jo, Annie, and Pamela celebrated the steadily progressing relationship between Cas and Dean. 

“Did you see the way Cas kissed his hand?” Pamela asked fanning herself. “Man, I thought Grumpy was hot, but that angel may just take the cake…”

Jo sighed. “I can’t even believe this is the Dean who tried to pull the “last night on earth” crap on me.” 

Annie took a long sip of her beer. “Is it wrong that I hope heaven keeps watching them?”

“Yes,” Bobby said gruffly, dropping a stack of books on the table. “Now, you hens stop gawking over Dean and Cas and get to researching.”

“Fine,” Annie said, setting her beer aside. “What are we looking for now, boss?”

“We’re searching for the spell that Metatron used.”

“Isn’t Kevin translating the tablet?,” Jo asked.

“Yeah, but we don’t know that the spell is on it, and we don’t time to wait on prophet boy,” Bobby answered. “So, get to searching.”

The three women grumbled good-naturedly, but they each grabbed a book and got started. 

Every time Bobby saw one glance at the dark television, sigh, and turn back to her reading, he just shook his head. If Ash didn’t shut down Big Brother soon, somebody was going to wind up dead when Dean finally made his way to heaven.

He happily poured himself another helping of Johnny Walker Blue, though. God bless the boy for punching the angel before he kissed him. 

+

Things were quiet at the bunker. They’d had a midnight dinner of cold pizza, courtesy of Kevin, who was already in bed, and then Sam had gone directly to bed. Dean bet he hadn’t even bothered taking his shoes off before collapsing. 

Dean showed Cas to his room and noticed how stiffly the other man was moving. 

“Your back still hurting?,” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Cas said, nodding. 

Dean stepped to his room and came back with a small bag. “Don’t you dare tell Sam or he’ll call me an old man for sure.”

“I don’t even know that is, Dean,” Cas said with a tired smile.

“Epsom salts with relaxing eucalyptus,” Dean muttered. “It helps aches and pains. Come on, let’s draw you a bath.” 

Dean led Cas to the bunker’s private bathroom, which housed an oversized bathtub unlike the regular shower room. He got the water started and dumped in the salts. “Uh – just don’t let the water get too hot or run over, okay? You want it warm but not so warm that it makes you sick.”

Cas nodded, and with his usual lack of modesty, began undressing. 

Dean’s cheeks reddened, and he headed for the door. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen too. That’ll help with the –” He stopped talking when he looked at the mirror. 

Cas was facing the bath, naked from the waist up, his back reflected.

But it wasn’t the bareness of Cas’s back that caught Dean’s attention – or, at least not entirely. It was the massive bruising covering his friend’s lower back, vivid shades of blue, purple, and green with starbursts of petechiae.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed. He reached out and turned Cas around, yanking down the top of his cargo pants. “What the hell happened to you?,” he asked, running his fingers lightly over the area. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were hurt?”

“It’s just bruising,” Cas said. He cut off Dean’s protest. “My friends at the shelter took me to an emergency clinic, and the doctor said that my organs were fine, but that it would hurt like hell.” He paused. “It doesn’t hurt like hell, as we both know. But I admit that it does hurt.”

“Tell me what happened,” Dean said.

Cas shrugged again, wincing as the movement stretched his sore muscles. “There was a fight and a fall, and that was about it.”

“That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“There’s not much else to tell,” Cas said simply. 

“I don’t believe that,” Dean said, walking over to the tub and turning off the water. “You need to get in. I’ll leave the room –”

“I’m not shy,” Cas said, his eyes twinkling. He dropped his jeans and boxers in one swift movement, and – well – Dean was definitely lightheaded now. 

Cas walked over to the tub, moaning as he gingerly lowered himself into the water. “I don’t think this is going to work, Dean,” he said. 

“Your back is too sore for the tub, isn’t it?” Dean asked, biting his lip when Cas nodded. Other than the salts and maybe some other home remedies, he didn’t know what would help. 

“Okay, let me think a minute,” Dean said. As the idea came to him, he wondered if his intentions were pure, but decided not to question too far. 

“Let’s try this,” Dean said, taking off his own shirts and jeans. 

He laughed at Cas’s raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry, your virtue is safe with me,” Dean said. “I’ll even leave on my boxers as proof.”

Cas tilted his head. “That’s disappointing.” He smiled as the weight of his words hit Dean. The hunter’s cheeks flushed, and his green eyes darkened, conveying a look that momentarily made Cas forget entirely about his injured back. 

“I’ll remember you said that,” Dean said, his voice husky and thick.

“Promises, promises,” Cas said with a wicked grin that grew wider when he glanced down at the tented front of Dean’s boxers. 

Dean muttered a “god help me” before climbing into the tub behind Cas, letting his friend lean against his chest. 

“Better?” 

“Much,” Cas said, leaning against Dean’s chest and shutting his eyes. The warm salt water surrounded and soothed both of them. Dean leaned his head back and focused on the lapping of the hot water against his legs, the aquamarine tile that led up to the white ceiling. He focused on everything but Cas’s skin against his own, of Cas’s own obvious arousal. 

Comforted by the warm water and Dean’s steady presence, Cas quickly fell asleep. Dean found it easier to ignore his physical cravings then; he wanted Cas wide awake for their first time. He shut his own eyes and let himself doze off. 

When Dean woke up, the water was tepid and murky. He roused Cas, who had been sleeping soundly. 

“Sorry, Cas,” he said softly. “Let’s get you to bed.” Cas allowed Dean to ease them both out of the tub and to dry him off. Dean took extra care to avoid applying unnecessary pressure to the still-scary-looking bruising, even when he was applying arnica gel. He wrapped Cas in a soft, buttery-yellow towel that Dean had purchased himself and gave his friend three ibuprofens and a small glass of water. Only half-aware, Cas obediently downed the pills. 

Wrapped in his own towel, Dean took Cas to his room, which was across the hall from Dean’s own. He helped Cas into a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, and Cas collapsed into the bed. He was asleep before Dean could cover him with the comforter.

Dean brushed his lips softly across Cas's forehead and reluctantly went to his own room. 

+

Sam was up early the next morning, and he headed straight for the showers to wash off two days of road dirt and grime. Sam noticed that the door to the private bath was open, and the light was on. 

He stepped into the room to turn the light off, and froze at the sight of faded blue denim, green cargo pants, plaid shirts clashing blue and green against red and gray, a red hoodie, t-shirts and boxers in whites and greys. 

The jumble of colors and patterns was surreal against the wall's aquamarine tile and the ebony floor. 

Sam decided that surreal was all he could handle before 7 o'clock in the morning. He resolutely flipped out the light and firmly shut the door. 

+


End file.
